The Homecoming
by StormInMyHeart
Summary: After being away from 9 months, Ziva returns to Tony and DC. Not a baby fic!


The Homecoming

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Tony awakened slowly in the dim morning light, yawning slightly as his consciousness gradually returned, before determinedly snuggling back into his pillows. He'd had the most amazing dream the previous night. True, he'd had dreams like it before, but this one had seemed so real to him that he was having trouble shaking it off. In it, he and Ziva had been having wild hot monkey sex on Gibbs's desk, right in the middle of the MCRT Bullpen; this had alwyas been one of his favorite fantasies, and one he had not yet found the time or opportunity to make a reality. Of course, Fantasy Ziva didn't begin to live up to what Real Ziva had turned out to be like, a fact for which he was frequently and loudly grateful. One of these days, though, he decided, he was going to see what they could do about turning that particular fantasy into a reality, security cameras be damned.

As he slowly regained awareness of his surroundings, Tony realized that he was wrapped around Ziva's body, with his morning erection pressing into her thigh. He slowly and carefully shifted himself off of her, trying not to disturb her sleep, knowing that she hadn't slept well over the past few months. His luck held, for, despite all his movement, she didn't really nawaken, she just stirred a little in her sleep as her body unconsciously sought out his body heat.

Tony also realized that, at some point during the night, Ziva had put on his shirt, trying to ward off the chill of the room. He could tell that it was huge on her slender form, and that, with all of her makeup gone and her hair loose, she looked like a young girl.

He rested his head on the pillow next to hers and just watched Ziva sleep for a few minutes. He had always loved the time they got to spend together in the mornings, because it had happened so seldom, and it was somehow different than any other time they got to spend with each other. Mornings together were softer, quieter, richer. It was a real luxury to just spend a few minutes with the woman he loved, before the rest of the world could intruded upon their lives.

Lying there in bed next to her, Tony was conscious of Ziva's warmth next to him, of her comforting arm around him, of feeling the slow, steady beat of her heart against his chest. He reached out one hand and touched her face, gently, his heart breaking just a little as his fingers stroked her soft skin.

After a few minutes of just watching her breathe, Tony realized that Ziva was dreaming. From the smile on her face, it was obviously a pleasant dream, and, from the few murmured words he could understand, it seemed to include him. Still sleeping, Ziva snuggled a little bit closer to him.

Tony held his laughter in check, still reluctant to wake her. He took the hand that was now resting on his chest, and, lifting it, kissed Ziva's slender, strong fingers. It still amazed him that he had gotten used to her presence in his life, in his home, in his bed, so very quickly. She'd only been back in DC for two weeks, but he found that he couldn't wait until he could smell the scent of her perfume the moment he walked through the front door of his apartment. He was glad that he had convinced Ziva to let him into her life, and convinced her to come back to DC and to him, if not to NCIS and the MCRT Team.

Tony could hardly wait until he could convince Ziva to marry him. He wanted to intermingle their belongings the way their hearts and lives had combined and become one. He looked forward to having her things surrounding him, because they were a part of her life. The colorful quilt which had always been on Ziva's bed, for example, which had been hand stitched by her great-grandmother, would become one of the most valued possessions in their house, as would the menorah she had inherited from her mother. He cherished the idea of her things surrounding him, although he knew that this was a somewhat foolish, sentimental idea. He was a relatively wealthy man - now that his trust from his mother had finally been turned over to him - sophisticated, well-educated, a world traveler. He had seen the wonders of the world, but it was the simple, inexpensive mementoes sitting on her dresser that gave him a feeling of pure joy.

Ziva murmured something again under her breath, and Tony leaned closer, in an attempt to hear what she was saying. Her murmuring had now taken on an urgency, of a rather amorous nature. One of her hands began to wander over his chest, while the other reached up, her fingers softly moving through his hair. Her leg moved up over his thigh, pulling his body closer to hers.

She shifted in his arms again, and this time Tony couldn't suppress a smile and a soft chuckle. He had no idea what was going on with her, but he decided to indulge himself in Ziva's closeness, in the sensations of her warm legs wrapped around his, of his arms about her waist. He allowed his head to rest against her shoulder, allowed himself to gently nuzzle her neck. Of course, the proximity of Ziva's body to his meant that he was rapidly losing the battle of self-control with his own body, as it responded to her touch as if it had a mind of its own. But he had no desire to make love to a sleeping woman. He wanted her awake and participating in the action. So, he cleared his throat softly, waited a moment, and then repeated the action, a little more loudly this time.

Finally, Ziva began to awaken, stretching just slightly to loosen her sleep-stiffened muscles. "Mmmm... Good morning," she murmured, without yet opening her eyes.

She suddenly stopped moving, remembering her dream, which had been particularly vivid. They had been making love on the Gibbs' desk. That had always been one of her favorite fantasies, and she immediately decided that someday she and Tony were going to have to make it a reality. In her dream they had both been naked, with not a care in the world, totally consumed with the joy of making love. She had been able to feel the shudders of pleasure move through her body in that dream, and she was still aware of the wetness there, between her legs, still aware of her body's desire for release.

Opening her eyes just slightly, Ziva noticed that her hands were lightly caressing Tony's body, and she became aware of just how close she was to him. Her eyes widened at the touch of his hardness against the skin of her thigh.

'Oops! Did I do that to him?' she silently laughed.

"Especially good for you, it seems," Tony responded, a slightly wry tone to his voice. "Pleasant dream?" he asked, one eyebrow arched in wry amusement.

"Did we..." she asked, and then blushed a little when she realized what had just happened.

"No, it wasn't me; you were all on your own this time, Ziva. I just got to watch."

"Surely you knew that girls had wet dreams?" Ziva asked with a small laugh, recovering from her momentary embarrassment.

"No, I'm afraid that Ohio State managed to leave that tidbit out of my extensive education," Tony teased her, laughing and kissing her on the tip of her nose. "But it's a good thing to know."

"You have given me wet dreams for quite some time," she explained, laughing. "They were good for my level of frustration, as well. Not to mention that they were possibly the only thing that kept me sane for the past nine months."

"Yes, well... I must confess that you've helped me out on a number of occasions yourself," Tony admitted, laughing softly.

Suddenly, he stopped laughing and began kissing her. Tony's kiss was warm and soft and tender one second; the next, it was hard and demanding. He flicked his tongue across her lips and pulled them into his mouth, sucking and nipping at them. His arms came up tightly around her, and in an instant she was on her back and he was cradled between her legs. His arms came up under her and his hands cupped her shoulders. He made a slight shift of his hips, and the heated contact between their bodies stole her breath away in a loud gasp, making her eyes fly open. His eyebrows rose just a little at the depth of her response, and they grinned at each other and then began to laugh. She felt exhilarated, deciding that it should be illegal to feel that good. Especially so early in the day.

He leaned down to whisper in Ziva's ear. "Oh, I almost forgot... Good morning."

"It is, yes," she grinned up at him.

She moved a hand between them and began unbuttoning the shirt she was wearing, but Tony put his hand on hers to stop her. "Here. Allow me." He slowly undid the buttons, slipping his hand beneath the soft cotton material to lightly caress her breasts, before removing it completely.

He loved making love to Ziva in the morning. She was a little quieter, just a little bit more subdued in the morning than at any other time of day. And so was he. Which meant they had the luxury of watching each other's faces throughout the whole thing. They could put away all the worries of the upcoming day, forget about the pressures of work of life, and just concentrate on each other. Tony had always known they could speak volumes to each other with just their eyes, without saying a single word, and he had been glad to be proven correct.

He entered her ever so slowly, touching her nowhere but at her sleep-warmed passage. Ziva opened her eyes again and found his gaze locked on her face, his body supported by arms on either side of her. When Tony had filled her completely, he stopped moving, just kept staring at her. The look in his eyes was fascinating in its complexity: intense, but relaxed; passionate, but playful. It was full of contradictions, like a fine wine.

She could feel the effect of his hazel eyes on her composure, affecting her entire body. The effect was a physical sensation that filled her with desire, making her body twitch with excitement.

Tony smiled. "I felt that."

Ziva did it again, this time on purpose. He drew his breath in with a sharp little exclamation of pleasure.

He made love to her for a long time, keeping it slow, stroking her gently inside and out, waking her body up in a way he'd often wanted to. He'd watched her sleep so many times - on planes, in cars, at her desk, even on his couch, once or twice - and often fantasized about waking her up in just this way.

Ziva raised her hands to Tony's shoulders and pulled him slowly down to her so that his chest pressed against her breasts and the tip of his nose touched hers. Still he stared into her eyes. It was as though they were attached more by the looks they exchanged than by their bodies.

Slowly, slowly, Ziva felt him withdraw, then slide into her again and stop.

"Do you know what that feels like?" she whispered. "It feels like I have come home."

"Ziva, did you forget that I've seen your home - that big villa with the horse farm and the olive grove in Israel," he protested.

She grinned up at him, rolling them over in the bed, and then setting up a slow, easy rhythm.

"That is my family's estate, Tony. Not my home. *This* is my home. *This* is where I belong."

"Oh, Ziva..." Tony didn't know what to say. Sometimes her ability to express what she felt through words made him speechless. And, considering how long it had taken her to learn to open up, her eloquence was always a little surprising.

He brought his lips softly to hers at that moment, before rolling her back under him.

She continued to watch Tony's face as the heat built from his long, steady strokes. His hazel eyes were clear and sharp. His full lower lip was moist from her kiss and shone red like a ripe, exotic fruit. His nostrils flared slightly, betraying the tension building in the rest of his body.

Drawing back slightly, Tony snaked one arm under her lower back and lifted her, drawing a pillow beneath her buttocks. Then he slid his hands down along her sides and legs until his hands grasped the insides of her bent knees. In one sudden, quick movement, he pushed her legs up so her knees almost touched her shoulders, at the same time thrusting hard into her. The unexpected depth of his penetration forced a deep moan of pleasure from her. He held her there and kept thrusting hard. And, still, Tony's eyes were locked on hers.

"How does it feel, Ziva?"

"Oh, God, Tony. It's... I... it's amazing..." she breathed.

"*You're* amazing, Ziva. *This* is amazing." His voice was hoarse, his words struggling to be heard around his gasping breaths. Sliding her legs up so they rested on his shoulders, Tony reached down to grasp her breasts, cupping the weight of them in his palms, massaging them with a gentle, rolling movement in contrast to the firm thrusting of his hips against her. His fingertips found her nipples and squeezed, his thumbs brushing across the hardened tips.

It was too much. Ziva's eyes slipped closed in an effort to minimize sensory input - a kind of protective reflex triggered by sensory overload.

"No, Ziva," she heard him rasp. "Open your eyes. I want to be able to see you."

She forced her eyelids apart. An observer might have thought that Ziva was the one in the vulnerable position - spread wide open, her legs resting on his shoulders. But at that moment, Ziva knew better. She could see it in his eyes. Tony was the wide-open one; he was the one in the vulnerable position. He was giving everything he was to her in that moment - his trust, his fear, his hope. His love.

Most of all, his love.

The thought raised her already fever-pitched passion up another notch. With some small part of her mind that retained control, Ziva saw him still watching her in fascination.

"Tony... I love you so much..." She barely managed to get the words out before she exploded into a bright starburst of sensation. As she fell over the edge and her spasms shook her, Ziva threw an arm over her eyes.

"No, Ziva, no." He moved her arm so that he could gaze into the depths of her dark eyes as her body responded to his love. When the tremors subsided, she reached for him, burying her face in his neck, and Tony suddenly realized that she was crying.

Tony gently wiped the tears from her face. "Are you okay?" He usually asked her this, but this time it was asked with a little more urgency, with a little more poignancy, after everything that had happened in the past months.

"I think I hae never been better in my entire life," Ziva protested, her breath-taking smile reassuring him where her words had not.

As her heartbeat slowed from a frantic pace to a steady thumping, she lowered her legs and wrapped them around his waist. "It is your turn now, though," she crooned in his ear.

And, for the first time since he'd entered her, Tony's eyes slid shut. He resumed thrusting his hips, erratically now, having abandoned rhythm and style for speed. Just moments later Ziva felt him stiffen inside her. He whimpered quietly, a sound a child might make in a moment of fear or pain, and then collapsed onto her, burying his face in the hollow where her neck met her shoulder.

"Yes. Yes, it is okay," Ziva cooed mindlessly, stroking Tony's silky hair, feeling his hot, ragged breath on her sweaty skin. They lay like that as the minutes passed, still wrapped up in each other, still acutely sensitized to each other, sharing breaths, heartbeats, thoughts, sensations, memories.

His finger lightly brushed over the faint bruise on her neck, a bruise he had made the night before. They were still joined, Tony's body lying over hers, but supported by his elbows on either side of Ziva's head. He stirred above her, but she tightened her legs' grip around him.

"No, do not move," Ziva murmured in his ear, flicking her tongue at his earlobe.

"I'm too heavy for you," Tony said drunkenly, his voice muffled by his face being buried in her neck.

"No, you are fine," she assured him. "I am much stronger than I look."

Although he again made a gesture to move away, her legs remained locked around his waist. Tony wasn't going to complain, though. This was where he wanted to be. This was his home, too. The first home he had had in a very long time.

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End file.
